There are some drives
Down the open flat of
The coast highway, where we had hair
Whipping against our cheeks, stinging,
As the effect never shown in pictures.
But there are others where
We sat in rooms and then gave breath to
A reckless thought,
And chased the edge of the sun
With music and smoke trailing behind,
Then walked out to the end of the world
And felt the last colored
Waves of water
Swim against our running skin.
There are drives in
The dark, where we parked and learned
How to touch hands and faces and
Make stomachs jump,
Then up around the mountains
To fall in with the stars, when
We were almost lost, and
The trees were hidden beneath blankets
As we watched our city below take the light
We should have seen in the sky.
We all lay on the cold sand
And had heads pressed together, looking
Up into the dark liquid,
Feeling so small and large,
And felt drops pierce our tongues and loosen
Thoughts about who
Had really put us here, and
If anyone was really listening, anyways,
Within the cresting constellations.
We let the silence speak for us
As we imagined the sparkles in our eyes
Feeling infinitely uninhibited.